


Disposing with Damon

by AnnaLane



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Delena, Episode: s01e15 A Few Good Men, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 09:49:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12745905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaLane/pseuds/AnnaLane
Summary: 'What if' spin on S1E15 "A Few Good Men." Damon does something bad...and calls Elena.





	1. The Body

Elena's breath appeared in front of her. She shook her head. It was supposed to be spring and she could see her breath! She huffed out another cloud and snorted. Ridiculous.  
She heard an owl hoot and the sound crawled up her spine. It was dark and cold, and she was walking alone. Ever since she learned about the things, the monsters that could be out there–that are out there–it seemed even stupider to get herself into these types of situation. Human creeps were enough of a danger at night. And here Elena was, walking towards one of the monsters. At night. Alone. How ironic would it be if it was a human who harmed her, and not one of the new creatures she found herself acquainted with.  
Damon. Elena's teeth clenched and her heart pounded, her entire being tensed. She hated him. The only reason she was coming was for some answers and maybe to kill him. Her hand gripped the stake she held even tighter. Stefan had given it to her when Damon showed up. She never thought she'd ever use it, ever want to use it. Learning someone killed your birth mother, and you'll never get to meet her changes a girl. Amazing, who would have figured? The bragging about it really hadn't helped either.  
Elena cried out as she tripped and fell. Stupid car was totaled. Stupid Damon is a killer. Stupid hands for scraping. Stupid me for crying. She stopped walking when she felt a hot tear drip to her mouth. It was salty. Her hands stung, but they didn't hurt as much as the image of the mom she would never meet.  
She picked up the stake she'd dropped. More hot tears fell. She tried to keep walking, but she only stumbled, her tears so blurred her vision. With a frustrated cry, she swiped at her cheeks with the hand that didn't hold the stake. She was going to be strong. If she had to be. She was scared. Scared of never seeing her mom, scared of Damon, but mostly scared of what she really wanted. He was changing who she was. She would never kill someone before, but this was her mother! How could he-? Elena threw her stake in the woods. She wasn't going to let him change her. She wasn’t a killer. She wouldn’t be like him. But she could still show him the Ice Queen. Freeze him, even as her anger burned through her.  
Not for the first time Elena wondered why Damon had called. She had just gotten home after Stefan told her he would go investigate the man who’d just stepped in front of the bus in front of her. She got under the covers of her bed and curled up. She just wanted to sleep, sleep and forget the world. But she couldn't. She kept thinking about the way Damon had mocked Alaric. It was like he had done that to her, staring straight in her eyes as he talked about drinking her mother's blood. Then, as if he could feel her hatred, her sadness, he called. Almost, it had seemed, just to make it worse. "Elena, I-I did something bad. I need your help, please. Please, Elena." When she had heard his voice her anger crested. After a short pause, when she had calmed enough, she told him to wait for her.  
She wanted to ask him why. She wanted to make him feel pain, feel her pain. That was not who Elena Gilbert was, and Damon was responsible.  
Now here she was, at the Salvatore mansion, hand poised to knock. Suddenly, she felt a moment of deep reluctance. She'd just go home and-oh.  
Damon stood there in the open doorway, leaning heavily against the frame. The smell of booze hit her so strongly that she almost took a step back. She found she couldn't, though, as he leaned towards her in a way that made her think he was falling, but instead he was crushing her to him. It felt incredibly dangerous, as she had rocked back from his weight and he had stayed in that leaning position with her.  
"Oh, Elena, I'm so sorry. I never killed her. She just begged and I didn't know what to do and I didn't know you would be hurt! I didn't even know you existed! I-I'm just sorry."  
"What?" Elena tried to pull herself from him. "My mother-"  
"She's alive, she's not dead!" Damon pulled away from her and out of their leaning position. His hands held her shoulders and he looked into her eyes. "I changed her." His voice slurred a little, but that barely registered with Elena.  
"Where is she? Why did she beg-" Elena couldn't continue because Damon had all but fallen on her. She put her hands on his shoulders and did her best to steady him. When she looked into his face she saw that his eyes were unfocused and the blue less visible than usual. He had flushed and slightly sweaty skin. And he stunk! Her eyes actually watered.  
"Alright, alright, I see what you mean about needing help." Elena said as she moved closer so that she was under one arm, lending him support.  
"What are you talking about?" He made a face as they walked into the house from the porch. Well, Elena walked, he stumbled.  
"What do you mean, 'what am I talking about'? You called me. Geez, you must be really hammered." Elena grunted as they made their way into the parlor towards the couch. She had no idea how much he must have had to drink in order to become drunk. She’d never seen him like this. She tried to work up irritation, but his apology and his revelation had stirred elation to replace all her anger. Her mother was alive?!  
"I think I'm sobering. That light is killing me."  
Elena reached out and shut the light off, but since the fire had died, it was too dark for her to see, so she turned it back on at a dimmer setting.  
"I'm a vampire, Elena." Damon complained, placing one hand over his eyes.  
"Well, I'm a human, Damon, and humans can't see in the dark." Even so, she dimmed it a little more. Elena was a little out of breath. It was hard supporting drunken vampire jerks. She tried to concentrate completely on the couch. She was just barely able to make out the outline of it in the dim light.  
"Oh, yeah, sorry." Damon managed to utter before his strength gave out.  
Elena knew she wouldn't have been able to catch him with all his weight, so it was a good thing they right next to the couch and Elena only had to push him in the general direction of the couch as he fell. He landed on his stomach with his legs over the edge.  
"Oh, on my stomach, not good, not good." He tried to flip himself over, but ended up just lifting his feet onto the cushions and managed to get his head dangling off the side. "A little help here?" He asked indignantly.  
"I don't want you to puke and end up choking because you're on your back and can't move."  
"Vampires don't puke." Damon shot back, but after made a sound that sounded suspiciously like gagging.  
"I didn't think vampires could get drunk either, and..." Elena just looked him over. He scowled.  
"Easiest way is to eat someone with alcohol already in their system. Next is to mix a little blood with a little booze. Then, of course, there's always the drink every last drop of Stefan's fine alcohol collection method." Damon waved his hand to the side of the couch.  
Elena then noticed the empty crystal bottles strewn across a table next to the end of the couch near Damon's head. There had to be at least 10 empty bottles, save one that had just a little amber liquid left.  
"How did that happen? Missed one..." Damon groaned and reached for the last sip, but Elena got to it first.  
"C'mon, Elena, I'm coming to. Besides, wouldn't you love to see the look on Stefan's face when he realizes there's puke on his fancy settee?"  
"Thought you said vampires couldn't puke?" Elena grinned at Damon's glare. He made a swipe for the liquor, but Elena evaded his hand. "Ha, I'm faster than a vampire!" Elena teased, dangling the heavy bottle over his head at eye level.  
"A smashed vampire, maybe." Damon made another swipe for it but missed.  
"Swing and a miss!" Elena laughed. "Thought you said you were sobering." Her grin grew, and she held the bottle a little closer to his head.  
All of a sudden, Elena's feet no longer held her up and two arms supported her at the back of her knees and under her arms. Then Damon, obviously dizzy from the sudden movement, fell, with Elena beneath him. Thankfully, he took most of the impact on his wrists so she didn't get hurt. He groaned and rested all his weight on her. His head rested on the floor between hers and her shoulder. It took Elena a while for her to adjust her breathing because she wasn't really used to having people just collapse on top of her.  
"See, I'm still a vampire, you can't beat me." He said it lightly and it was a little muffled by the floor. He didn't make any move to get up. Elena smiled as she stared at the ceiling.  
"Uh huh. Can you even stand up, Damon?" Elena wasn't sure how she'd get up, but she wasn't worried yet.  
"Wow, you didn't spill it." Damon made yet another move for the miraculously unchanged booze.  
She could feel him smile against her. She should probably be worried about his mouth being so close to her neck, but when she turned her head it was only to escape his crazy-strong liquor-laced breath. She screamed when her eyes met those of the body lying near the fireplace.


	2. Alaric

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elena finds out what Damon needs help with.

Damon rolled off her with a groan and clutched his head. "Definitely sobering."  
Elena sat up and almost puked as if she had been the one drinking. "Oh my God, Damon! There's a dead person...in your..." Elena drew her knees to her chest and backed up against the couch.  
Damon, who had rolled in between Elena and the body in an effort to escape her screech, glanced at the body. He sighed and reached for the bottle, but Elena had a death grip on it.  
Elena got up quickly. "Damon what did you do!?" She ran a hand with shaking and sweaty fingers through her hair and took a deep breath. Her hands went automatically to the pocket of her pants that held her cell.  
"Elena, what do you think you're doing?" Damon drew out with a dangerous lilt in his voice.  
"Calling the police! There's a dead guy in your house!"  
Damon stood quickly and grabbed her wrist, rendering it immobile. "Think. Just think." Damon patiently held onto her wrist as her breath slowed and her immediate panic ebbed.  
"Okay, maybe not the police, but..." Elena sighed in frustration and fear. Maybe Stefan... Elena's eyes slid involuntarily slid back to the body, drawn by some morbid curiosity. "Damon," Elena got through clenched teeth.  
He plopped in the couch and lay his head back with his hand covering his eyes. "Yes?"  
"Is that Alaric?" She asked in a cold voice.  
Damon winced. "Not anymore?" He wasn't really sure what the procedure was for telling a girl you just killed her biological mother's estranged husband and aunt's new love interest.  
"You just killed the only person who could have told me anything about her!" Elena, infuriated, attempted something between strangling and a punch, but somehow ended up hitting him in the face with the heavy glass bottle she still gripped. He hissed and grabbed her arms to pull her onto his lap. The bottle fell next to the couch.  
Tears threatened as Elena went limp. "Why?" was all she got out.  
"He had a stake, Elena." A tear did fall and Damon wiped it away and stroked her hair.  
She sat there for a moment, her knees on either side of Damon's waist, just thinking. Alaric, the one she had planned on getting information from, was dead, and Damon had killed him. Damon hadn't, apparently, killed her mother, instead turned her into an immortal vampire. God, I hope we don't look the same age. How creepy would that be? On top of it all, Elena had come her with a stake in her palm and revenge in her heart. She looked back at the body. That could have been her...  
Damon moved his hands to either side of her face and stared into her eyes intently. "Elena, I would never hurt you, and I never meant to hurt you."  
It was almost like he read her mind. Elena became even more aware of the fact she was straddling him and her was holding her face really close to his. She gulped.  
His eyes eventually drifted to her cheek and he moved his hand to her neck to get a better look. "What happened? Are you okay?"  
"What?" Elena felt a little drunk, herself. Maybe his drunken fumes were getting to her? She swayed a little closer in.  
"There's blood on your cheeks. From the delicious aroma, I'd say your own." He eased back a little and dropped both hands.  
"Oh, my hands. I fell." Elena held her hands in between them. Damon sat up a little more to get a better look. They both gazed intently at her palms, which were held horizontally and the only thing separating their close midsections. Damon took her hands in his and his hands were so warm and strong that just the feel of his rough palms holding the backs of her hands calmed her. She took a deep breath that allowed her to relax her body and just be okay. Her head rested against Damon's as they both just stared at her hands. Her eyes closed and she feel into an almost sleep.  
That is, until she felt Damon's hands leave her own and drift down her waist. At first Elena thought he was trying something, but her just hefted her off his lap and set her down next to him. One of her legs still dangled over his lap.  
"I'll help clean them for you." He smiled angelically and took one of her hands in both of his own. Elena wasn't sure she wanted his idea of help, especially because she wasn't sure whether or not he had purposefully copped a feel when he moved her.  
Damon lifted her hand to his mouth. "Damon?" Elena frowned.  
His eyes flicked up to hers. "Elena, don't worry. Let me help you. Besides, doesn't it hurt?"  
Well, now that he mentioned it, it did kind of burn. "I can just put alcohol on it or something. Haven't you ever heard of Neosporin?" Elena sighed and tugged her hand.  
Damon wouldn't let go. "That would make it hurt more, Elena. And you humans heal so slowly. This way is better." he grinned and leaned over her hand. Elena saw his big tongue flicker out before she felt it. It was warm and rough, but incredibly soft. With every rasp of his tongue, a tingle went barreled through her entire body, radiating from her hand. It reminded Elena of when you hit your funny bone, only less uncomfortable and annoying, and everywhere. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to giggle or blush, or do something else entirely. She shivered involuntarily. She felt goose bumps rise on her hyper-sensitive skin through her jacket. She didn't want it to end, but she also wanted it to stop, it was too strong a feeling.  
Finally, he stopped and she felt her breath fly from her in relief and disappointment. She hadn't realized she'd been holding it. Then he took her other hand. Elena almost screamed that that hand was perfectly fine, she'd mostly landed on her left one anyway, but she didn't say anything as he started again.  
Damon had closed his eyes when working on the other hand, but now he looked up at Elena. His pupils were even bigger than they had been when he was drunk. Eyes still on her, Damon started to suck a little and Elena almost yelped. Fire seared its way through her arm over her breasts, leaving them cold, painfully frozen and hard, then finally to a place that became anything but cold and hard.  
Damon's eyes glittered as his lips slipped up to her wrist and he started sucking and nipping at the prominent vein there until she could feel her blood throbbing furiously at that one vein and realized that her heart was beating incredibly fast-almost painfully-and her hand twitched in his grip.  
He immediately pulled up. "There. Healed and disinfected. Just like I said. That wasn't so bad, was it?"  
“How- how did you do that?”  
“Bit my tongue to get a little vampire blood in the cuts. Good as new.”  
Elena felt the warmth on her face and tried to pull her leg off his lap because the places they touched she felt an even more sensitive awareness. She froze when Damon wrapped his hands around her thigh and lifted it up so he could stand. He let go slowly, letting his hands slide down her leg. Then he was standing in front of where she was sitting on the couch. He held out a hand to her.  
She ignored it and got up on her own, letting out a frustrated noise when Damon didn't back up and they ended up standing together, bodies pressing close. Elena managed to twist herself around him and step closer to the body. Damon rolled his eyes.  
Elena pulled out her phone and dialed Stefan's number.  
Damon bent to pick up the bottle that hit him in the eye. He gazed in appreciation as he realized that not a drop had dripped from it, as it had only fallen on its side. "He's not answering. Bad cell reception or something." Damon said, bored.  
Ignoring him, Elena waited until Stefan's answering machine came, then jabbed the end call button viciously. Normally, she'd worry and keep calling, but she decided she wouldn't involve Stefan in this if she didn't have to. He already had such a hard time with Damon. Hell, he had to live with him!  
Damon wobbled a little as he lifted the bottle to his lips. Elena took the bottle from him and downed it in three gulps. "Ahh, Ahh!" Elena's throat shriveled up and seized and she really wished she hadn't done that. This was definitely not wine-cooler caliber. Her eyes watered and she felt the blush she'd already had spread and grow stronger. She vaguely realized she was starting not to care.  
Damon was somewhere between looking annoyed and approving of Elena's actions. "Oulfgh." She really got now why Roger Rabbit went nuts when he drank. That was some strong stuff. Elena's head and body were reverberating even though she stood still. Damon just watched as she swayed, and then regained balance.  
"You don't need me here, Damon. I'm sure you've had a lot of practice disposing of dead bodies." Elena slurred, noticed she'd slurred, then shrugged it off. "Have fun."  
"Well, you're mean when you drink." Damon grinned.  
"Well, you're always an asshole!" Elena fought the slur. Damon rolled his eyes. Elena stumbled to the hall. "Besides, a few sips doesn't get you drunk." Or, at least, that is what Elena told herself as she used the wall to steady herself.  
"You don't even know what that was, and it was gulps, not sips. Have you ever even been drunk, Elena?" he was making fun of her.  
She had been drunk before, but that was with Matt. They'd drunk beers, and fallen asleep in each other’s arms. She fought tears when she thought of Matt, and the days where all she had to worry about was getting caught for staying out all night at Matt's house. Now, there were vampires and bodies. But she had Stefan, and Stefan was worth it. She hoped. She took a couple steps closer to the door.  
"Elena, wait." Damon's voice stopped her. She swore she told her feet to keep moving, but they didn't. "I'm sorry. For everything." Elena turned to look at him. "I need your help."  
"What could I possibly help you with?" Elena was exasperated, maybe just a little tipsy, and very, very tired.  
Damon couldn't seem to keep the smirk off his face. "Well, I could think of a few things-"  
"Goodbye." Elena turned from him.  
"Stop, I'm sorry, but I really do need your help." Elena turned a little and peeked at him. "He has vervain in his blood, and the blood is-" he shrugged, "Well, the blood is all over him." He threw a disgusted look at the former Alaric. "Besides, I helped you." He pouted and made his eyes big, but since they were so dilated, he looked more like an alien than a puppy. More like a vampire.  
Elena was about to point out that she hadn't asked for his help, and in fact, if he hadn't called in the first place, she wouldn't have gotten hurt, but he held up his wrist to show her a healing rash and Elena knew vervain had caused it.  
"Please?" He gave her that look again, only this time it seemed serious and more genuine.  
Elena almost sobbed. "Fine. Fine." She shook her head. "Fine." Since she wanted this over quickly, she walked back to the body and examined it. Damon followed behind her. "So, what's the usual procedure for disposing of a body?"


	3. Delena Waste Disposal Services

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elena helps Damon with his problem despite her better judgment.

Elena kind of wished she had a stick to poke the body with. Was that disrespectful? She preferred not to ponder the thought and tried to shake herself of the morbid sense of curiosity and the curious absence of morality.  
Damon considered her question with a thoughtful look. "Burn it, bury it, chop it to bits and dispose of them individually..."  
"Gross!" Elena wavered, but she refused to faint on a dead body. She took a deep breath and a step away.  
"Well, wait 'til you have to deal with multiple bodies. That's a real bitch."  
Elena threw Damon a dirty look and bent over to look at Alaric with her hands on her knees. It felt like she was on the edge of a cliff looking down, and she was too scared to get closer. If she continued she knew she was going to fall. But that was ridiculous, she told herself. "We'll bury him. Start the fire."  
"Why am I starting a fire if we're burying him?"  
"Don't get snarky with me, Damon. Just start the fire." Elena put one hand on her hip and waved one in the direction of the fireplace.  
Damon looked at her for a second and shrugged. "I knew I'd get drunk, fun Elena back again." Damon grinned, referring to the time he'd sort of kidnapped her as he started the fire.  
"You just said I was a mean drunk. Learn to make up your mind." Damon looked annoyed and Elena had to turn so he wouldn't see her smile. Since when was her being bossy 'fun'?  
When the fire roared, Elena kicked the bloody stake from Alaric's hand and into the fireplace.  
"Why couldn't we just bury it with him?" Damon looked down and kicked the hand back to where it was.  
"We don't want to mess around with that. It could lead to a lot of questions, so it's better to expose of it as quickly and efficiently as possible." Elena watched as the wood caught fire and slowly burned.  
"You're kinda paranoid, you know that?" But he smiled at her as he said it. "I like it."  
Elena blushed. “You’ve been around how long? Shouldn’t you have learned to clean your messes up by now?”  
He rolled his eyes. “Guess I never really cared.”  
Elena ignored him. "Give me your jacket." Elena held out her hand.  
"Cold?" Damon smirked as he shrugged out of it.  
She stroked the soft black leather. "No." Then she walked over so she stood by Alaric and placed the jacket on the floor above his head. Steeling herself, she gripped both of his hands, did her best to ignore the disgusting feeling of dried blood she found there, and pulled him into a sitting position. Then she dragged him forward and dropped him on Damon's leather coat.  
"Hey! That's my very expensive and-"  
"Ruined now." Elena said smugly as she tied the jackets arms around the body so it wouldn't fall off.  
"Why in hell did you do that?" He had a murderous look on his face, but Elena wasn't worried.  
"I saw it on Gone with the Wind. We don't want to leave a blood trail." Then she started dragging the body towards the back door unsuccessfully.  
Damon gave a sudden laugh and looked as surprised by it as Elena felt. "Are you comparing me to Melanie?"  
Elena grinned. "I guess I am." She shook her head with a laugh. Bracing herself, she attempted a tug on the body using all her strength. It moved maybe a foot. Great, her heart was already pounding and she was out of breath.  
"He doesn't look dead." Elena looked at the body again, deciding she needed a break.  
Damon gave her a stern look. "Have you ever seen a corpse before? Maybe we should wait 'til he starts decomposing and has maggots eating through his eyes?"  
"Okay, okay." Elena pulled him another two feet.  
She looked up to see Damon staring at her with a wondrous look on his face. Seeing her looking at him, puzzled, he quickly looked away and, only a second later, looked back with a dazzling smile. "You look like a warrior. Complete with face paint." Damon made a sweeping gesture with his hand across his cheeks.  
"Huh?"  
"The blood. You know, I could clean it for you..." he let his sentence trail off with a hopeful pout.  
"No thanks. Feeding time is over at the zoo. This is now." Elena nodded towards the body. With a sigh, she tugged it another foot.  
Five minutes later, Elena still didn't have him out of the living room. "Well, this is going nowhere." Damon swirled a glass of amber liquid. Elena tried to ignore him. Besides, it was a bigliving room...  
"Hey, where'd that come from?" Elena saw that he had somehow gotten ahold of yet more alcohol. "You know what, never mind, I don't care." Elena finally pulled the body into the hallway. Her muscles ached.  
"You are really weak." Damon smiled. "Helpless, even."  
Then he was behind her, lifting her hair from her neck. Elena stilled for a second, but when she felt his breath on her neck she pushed him away and he let her. "Go dig a hole," she commanded.   
Damon left silently.  
When she finally got the body to the back door, she was slick with sweat and tired as hell. She was not weak. Alaric was just really big and heavy. And he had a lot of muscle, and after all, muscle weighs more than fat. She took a deep breath and opened the door to drag him through just enough so that his body kept it open.  
Damon came back and looked at her. "The hole is ready, sir!" he bowed and started walking slowly off into the woods so Elena could follow. Elena went out into the night and shrieked. It had chosen that moment to start pouring. She went from hot and sweaty to cold and sopping.  
"Damon, get back here!" Elena screamed. In an instant he was beside her. "Get a sheet or something, wrap the body, and you carry it! I'm done!" She didn't know if it was the cool, sharp clarity of the rain, but she really should have thought of that sooner. Elena stormed back into the house.  
Damon followed, leaving behind the dead guy in the doorway. "My sheets are silk! Stefan's are Egyptian cotton-"  
"I don't care!" Elena yelled, still shivering from the rain. "You've never really needed me and I'm tired of coddling you!" She leaned against a wall. As soon as she felt up to it, she'd storm out of here.  
"You think you're coddling me?" he sounded incredulous. He stomped off, muttering something. He came back with some sheets to find her in the same spot. Stefan's, she noticed with a roll of her eyes.  
Despite herself, she ran and got a garbage bag from where she knew they were as he wrapped the body and headed out the door. Grabbing an old umbrella she found by the door, she followed him into the storm. He carried the body with ease and Elena admired him in his tight cloths, made all the more revealing with rain water as he walked into the woods. She was pleased to note that she could barely feel the rain under the cover of the trees.  
When they got to the hole, she noticed he was ready to just drop him into the hole, sheet and all. "Wait!" Elena ran the little distance that separated them. "Shouldn't it be deeper?"  
"But it's raining." he whined.  
"Afraid you'll melt?" She retorted with that jerk look that she had learned specially from Damon. When he just gave her a look, she groaned, "Come on, it barely looks three feet!"  
He rolled his eyes and grabbed the shovel that lay on the other side of the rectangular hole. He hoped in and got to work. His first shovelful of dirt hit her square in the chest, some going down her shirt and into her bra. He laughed. After her initial shock of cold earth being pelted at her, she did, too. Then she kicked some of the pile at her feet at his head. He laughed and shook the dirt from his hair.  
They both stopped and he resumed digging. A minute later he hopped out. She raised her brows in amazement. He had at least doubled its last depth. He saw her look and gave her that unique Damon jerk look. "Practice." She scowled. He smiled, pleased. "South five feet. Happy?"  
"In what world would this make me happy?" She snapped.  
He sighed, as if he were the one dealing with her. He made another move to dump the body.  
"Stop!" Elena walked a little closer to the body.  
"What now?" Damon groaned.  
Elena knelt down beside the corpse and gently pulled the sheet from under him and into the garbage bag. "Look Elena, I know I said they were nice sheets, but you don't have to try and save them." Damon's brows pulled together and he looked concerned.  
"If he's found, you don't want him connected to you two." Elena didn't straighten back up, and was a little grossed out by what she decided needed to be done next.  
"Ahh, protecting Stefan. Are we even going to tell him this happened or are we going to try and protect his delicate sensibilities?" Damon looked down. "What are you doing?" The question was really drawn out and Elena could hear the smile in his voice. "Either something really kinky, or-"  
"Eww! I just don't want him being I.D.'ed by by his clothes or investigators to find DNA." Elena mentally gagged as she finally got his shirt off and into the bag, Post mortem was starting to set in. The sick feeling just got worse as she contemplated an upcoming inevitable task.  
"So, you're undressing him." It was a statement, not a question and he got this smile on his face, one you couldn't not smile back at. "Do you wanna pull out his teeth, too?" he said conspiratorially.  
"Shut up!" Elena pulled off his shoes and socks.  
Damon took one shoe and held it to his foot. "Hmm. My size. They're nice shoes..." he mused aloud.  
"Just put them in the bag, Damon." Elena had paused, knowing she had gotten to the incredibly gross part in undressing a dead male. His pants. God, why did he have to be face up? She put her hands at the waistband of his sweatpants. She felt around a little more and got the waist band of his boxers too. No need to draw this out unnecessarily. Thank god he wasn't wearing jeans with a belt. She slipped his pants down and closed her eyes. She opened them only when she felt she was at his feet. After disentangling them from his pants, she stuffed the last of his cloths into her garbage bag.  
Refusing to look at his wounds or his other parts-it felt wrong, him being dead and all-she had to focus on his face. Her heart felt like it stopped, and the reality of the moment really hit her. He looked so sweet and angelic, just like he was sleeping. He was gone now. He was dead and dead was just dead. He'd never move again, never smile, never put on the stupid blue heart boxers she couldn't help but see before she put them in the bag. She cried a few tears, then had to look away.  
Damon, ignoring her, kicked the body into the hole. Elena involuntarily felt a spark of worry for him. Was he hurt? – no he'd never feel anything again. She felt her eyes wander back to him. He had landed on his front and you couldn't even tell he was wounded from the back.  
Impersonally, Damon said, "Elena, he tried to kill me. Now he's dead and you know he won't dwell. You shouldn't either." He picked up his shovel.  
Damon wasn't right of course, was never really right, but it did make her feel a little better. Elena had an absurd desire to cover him with the sheets, make sure he was comfortable. It was so cold out. But they were Stefan's blankets and she wouldn't have him involved in this.  
Her eyes slid from his back down and something on his hand caught her attention. Damn! She just noticed he had a ring on. If she was braver she'd go down there and get it, but she wasn't, and she refused to ask Damon. She just wanted this over with, so she resigned herself to the mistake. She needed this over with. The crazy stupid thing was that the ring was probably the most unique thing on him. The one thing that could lead to an identification. With her luck it was a class ring or family heirloom. She shook her head, she really was getting carried away with this whole paranoid thing.  
Elena's gaze roamed over him one last time and did a double take at his butt. Her eyebrows raised. It was one thing when he was in jeans and teaching, but when he was naked... She tilted her head, still gazing. It was all muscled and- she heard a cough. Elena glanced quickly up and saw Damon smirking. He opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "Don't. Just. Don't."  
Then she walked away and out of the woods. She could just hear his voice in her head. "Would you like a little time alone with him?" She couldn't deal with that. She stomped out onto the lawn. It was still raining hard. She ignored her umbrella and just stood there, letting the cold water make her numb. Inside and out. She wasn't even sure why she thought about him like that. He was dead, for Christ sakes! If she thought harder, she remembered he was her mother's husband, or ex, or whatever they were.  
Elena looked at her hands. They had Alaric’s blood on them now. She held them out in the rain and rinsed them off until she saw only her skin, but somehow through the pouring rain she still felt that dried blood. She lifted her head and closed her eyes and mopped at her wet cheeks with her clean dirty hands until she was sure her blood was off them, too.  
She finally stumbled back into the living room. It was lit with a brown rose color. Sunrise. She was so tired she slowly lowered herself onto the couch. She got it pretty wet, but she didn't care. She could pretend the place her head lay was wet only because of the rain and not her tears. She drifted off easily, but Damon came and awoke her with a gentle shake. "Come on, you should get out of the wet clothes. I brought you some blankets." He sat down next to her on the sofa.  
His voice was soft and sweet. It sounded like the color of the sunrise, and felt like the pleasant texture of the cloth couch. She sat up and buried her wet face against his chest. He was warm and dry. She let all her weight lean against him. He slowly peeled off her shirt and dropped it to the floor. His hands drifted over her bare skin and she shuddered. His hands were so warms against her cold skin. They stopped almost hesitantly over the hook of her wet bra. Now that she felt how cold her clothes really were and how warm she could be, she wanted all of their sagging cold weight off her. She leaned more forcefully into him. He got her meaning and unhooked her bra, his fingers trailing down her shoulders as he slid it off. She hunched over into him and he caressed all of her cold skin.  
He wrapped a sheet around her shoulders and nudged her so that she lay back. Damon's hands slid down her stomach to her jeans. When she didn't protest, he deftly undid the button and zipper. The tight jeans clung to her skin, wet and unyielding, but Damon was masterful and managed to get them off smoothly. He took her underwear along, much like she had done to Alaric. Elena whimpered, and Damon, believing her uncomfortably cold and not just mentally stressed, massaged feeling and heat to Elena's thighs. His hands slid to her calves and to her feet. He took off her shoes, socks, and the heavy wet denim. He held her feet in his large warm hands for a long moment. They were especially frozen, seeing as large puddles had been unavoidable.  
Then he drew the thin silk sheet around her entire body. She smiled and forced her eyes open just in time to see him tuck in a thick comforter around her. She snuggled into it and reveled in how nice it felt. Her eyes closed. Damon got up and kissed her on the forehead. She felt his absence more than she heard him walk away.  
"Damon?" She called sleepily. She knew he heard. "I'm still cold." Now that he was gone she could tell that this blanket provided only artificial warmth, and she wanted the real thing. She drifted for a second, but was half-awake when she felt Damon lift her up from the couch and sit down again. He lay back with his head against the armrest and lay her across him, so her head was on his chest. Warmth.  
As they both drifted to sleep, content and warm, Damon's rough hand slid under her sheet and rested against her bare stomach. Elena's hand found his and curled hers around it and brought it up so that she was hugging it. His arm instinctively tightened around her, and they both fell asleep with sweet smiles curving their lips.


End file.
